


Soul Survivor, Again.

by Wingedchester_67



Series: Soul Survivor Rewritten [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, Episode: s10e03 Soul Survivor, Extended Scene, Gen, Scene Rewrite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 20:54:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17291234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wingedchester_67/pseuds/Wingedchester_67
Summary: Some more sinister dialogue rewritten between Sam and Dean, Deanmon was nowhere near as scary as he could have been. So here's some spicier dialogue between Sam and Dean in the bunker dungeon. Note: Not spicy as in romantic, just really accusatory and hurtful dialogue meant to guilt Sam up a little more for season 9. I didn't feel that a simple "I lied" clears up half a season of depressive spiraling.A precursor to Nightmare, I just wanted to put it in a separate fic as that chapter works more as a stand-alone sequence, as it was almost entirely rewritten dialogue-wise.





	1. Chapter 1

“You would have liked to have gotten there before the deal went down, but you didn’t really care about poor ol’ Lester, did you?”

Dean as a demon was like looking in a mirrored photograph. Fundamentally, it was the genuine article. But there was just something wrong with the picture, something out of place. Despite the details all being there, it was wrong. It was throwing Sam off his game. Demons lie, demons manipulate, he knew all this, and yet, this was his brother. And worse yet, his brother wasn’t totally lying. Sam did ultimately lead Lester to his fate. He was a means to Sam’s end, a tool in his quest to find Dean. And it worked. Sam swallowed, he couldn’t look Dean in the eye. Not when he had nothing to deny.

“Oh, and so you know, I killed Lester myself.” Dean took a moment to pause, reveling in that bloody memory, and the satisfying burn it fed him through the Mark of Cain. The feel of Lester’s entrails dragging through the cavity in his chest, caught on the teeth of the First Blade as he pulled it free. The power of life ebbing from the man, feeding the Mark’s bloodlust. “And that wife of his married the tattooed guy. So it all worked out, in the end, didn’t it? Happy ending, with a neat little bloody bow on top.” Dean gave a cocky shake of his head.

Sam interrupted him, unable to continue to let Dean accuse him. “I never meant—”

“Who cares what you meant?!” Dean snarled. The underlying demonic roar backing his words. The roar of a raging beast below the surface of skin.

“We hunt monsters, because monsters hurt people. That was the line, that separated us from the things we hunted.” Dean tilted his head with a wicked expression on his face “But, hang on, that’s not right is it?”

That devilish grin Dean would wear all the time marred his face, twisting his features in an entirely new evil way. Familiar, but wrong. “Because you took a guy at his lowest. You used him for your own ends, you got him killed, and it cost him his soul. Sound familiar to anyone you know Sam?”

Sam sat back down, what was Dean talking about?

“Oh yeah that’s right, that’s exactly what happened to me.” he grinned. “You took me at my lowest, Kevin was dead, my brother was possessed by a rogue angel, Abaddon was out and the world was coming down around my ears, and you had the gall, to use my fears to hurt me. You took the one thing you knew I couldn’t do without, family, and you used it to kick me in the teeth by telling me you didn’t want to be brothers no more.”

Sam paled. There it was, those ugly words Sam had said once upon a time of hatred and hurt. He never meant for any of this to happen, He had been hurting, he felt betrayed, he had Kevin’s death burned into his mind’s eye. What he had said to Dean that day, he was just lashing out. He didn’t mean it, he didn’t mean any of it…

“I was already at my lowest, and you took a look at that and you kicked me like a dog. Then you spat on that dog, and you pissed on it for good measure. You hurt me for your own ends, then I went to a demon and got killed, and it cost me my human soul. Wow!” Dean laughed, an ugly sound that spits the failures of Sam’s past mistakes in his face. He reached for the next needle filling it with the purified blood, fumbling with the cap while the toxic (true) filth spewed from the creature’s (Dean’s) lips.

“Funny! Uncanny that, isn’t it? Course, I’m much better looking that Lester, let’s be honest. But what you did to him, well that’s not all that different from what you did to me now, is it? Your own flesh and blood.” Dean’s face hardened “Old habits die hard don’t they Sammy?”

Sam held the syringe to the injection site, shaking slightly. Dean eyed the tool warily. The look cracked, changing to dark merriment that flashed across his suddenly pitch black eyes. “See, that’s not so good of you is it Sammy? I think you’re on Santa’s naughty list, setting up poor vulnerable souls to be sold to the devil. Why, I’m pretty sure that description is more befitting of a demon wouldn’t you say?” he gave a cocky grin.

Sam couldn’t take this any longer, he left its (Dean’s) mouth running long enough. It was time to shut the demon (his brother) up. He grasped the plunger, and jabbed it into Dean’s neck, ejecting its contents efficiently into his veins. Dean screamed with pain, it was a horrible sound.

His scream morphed into a harsh yell of unbridled rage and hatred as the demon cure took its effects into his tainted blood. Dean was left breathing heavily, his eyes bulging from his head and a fresh sheen of sweat on his skin. That reaction … wasn’t normal. When the cure was administered to Crowley, he never reacted this way, nor this violently. What if something was going wrong? Concern riddled Sam’s features as he turned away from the sight of his bound brother, unable to look him in the face.

Sam felt pain. Pain from seeing his brother this way, knowing that he had inadvertently pushed Dean to this fate. Pain that the last thing Dean felt as a human, was Sam’s cold distance when Sam should have been there for him. It was too little too late when Sam admitted he didn’t mean those hurtful words. Regret, that the only way to save Dean now was to cause him even more suffering. It was almost unbearable.

When Dean found his breath again, he gasped against his restraints. “Let me ask you this, Sammy: If this doesn’t work, we both know what you got to do to me, right? You got the stomach for that, Sam?!”

Sam didn’t have an answer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one has fewer changes in the dialogue, mostly the change comes near the end when Dean says 'I quit'. I always thought it was unsatisfactory, the way that Sam can so easily deny that luxury from Dean, when all around him people have quit before. I felt Dean should rage a little bit at how unfair and hypocritical it was that Sam of all people, wanted Dean to stick around, not be the one to quit. Please note I don't hate Sam, I really don't, I love Sam as a character. But I do feel that the things he does wrong takes too long to resolve, or don't get enough time for a full resolution. So this is me, trying to give Sam a full resolution.

After talking with Cas on the phone, regarding Dean’s reaction to the cure, Sam returned to the dungeon to find Dean unconscious on the chair. Not good. Could demons even lose consciousness? Sam rushed to the chair and started holding Dean’s face, it felt hot and clammy. Like he was burning up. Sam put his fingers to Dean’s artery on his neck.

“Shit” There was no pulse, refusing to believe what that meant, Sam started slapping Dean’s face lightly.

“Hey! Hey Dean! Come on, come back!” Fuck, Sam’s done it again, he’s gone and killed his brother, for good this time.

“DEAN!” Sam shouted, desperate.

Dean gave a weak groan, Sam shouted louder, invigorated by his not dead response

“Come back to me. You there? Hey! Dean, you okay?”

Dean spoke in a weakened voice. “Yeah, if you … consider drowning in your own sweat while your blood boils ‘okay.’”

Sam relaxed, then frowned. Dean was still a demon. He supposed it wouldn’t make much sense for a demon to have a pulse, after all, Dean died when he turned into a demon. But did that mean he’d drop back dead once Sam managed to cure him? Sam tried not to think about it, he’d cross that bridge once he got there.

“Look, I can’t stop doing this” Sam started, holding up the next dosage of demon cure.

“Sure you can. You just stop! There’s no point in trying to bring your brother back now.” the demon taunted.

Sam defiantly stood over the bound demon (his brother) “Oh, I will bring him back, just you watch me.”

The demon snorted “I hate to tell you this, oh wait, I don’t." Dean's condescending voice said in mock regret. "Your uh… guilt-ridden, weight-of-the-world bro has been M.I.A. He checked out long ago leaving me in his place. But I’m loving the new model: Lean, mean, Dean. No baggage attached”

“Right” Sam dismissed the words of the demon, it was lying. There was no way Dean was gone, there just wasn’t. Sam would save him, he had to. He couldn’t- he can’t let Dean down again. Not after he’s already let him down so many times before. Not before he made it right, made up for what he did to Dean, not before he apologised to Dean, really apologised, for what he said about them being brothers. He had to.

“You notice I tried to get as far away from you as possible? Away from your whining, your complaining.” The demon (Dean) prattled on, seemingly determined to convince Sam to give up, let him go, as was written on that cursed note. “I chose the King of Hell over you! Maybe I was just … tired of babysitting you. Or always having to yank your lame ass out of the fire since …”

Dean gave a derisive snort of laughter. “Forever.”

Sam gulped. Demons always had this uncanny effect of fishing out uncomfortable truths to manipulate people.

“Or maybe” Dean continued “ … Maybe it was the fact that my mother would still be alive if it wasn’t for you. My own mom, died because you were born, your very existence sucked the life out of my life! I never got to be a kid, I never got to have parents, because of you!”  
It was lies, all of it lies. Sam knew Dean’s (the demon’s) newest accusations were half-truths at best. Manipulated lies and partial facts to cast Sam as the bad guy. But he knew he wasn’t responsible for his mother’s death, and he knew the real Dean, under that black demon haze, knew it wasn’t his fault. It didn’t mean it didn’t hurt though.

“This isn’t my brother talking.” Sam dismissed.

“You never had a brother! Just a mindless blunt little instrument listening to daddy taking care of baby bro. But guess what: I quit.”

Sam stepped toward Dean (the demon) “No. No, you don’t.”

Sam jabbed an accusatory finger to the creature sitting at his feet “You don’t get to quit. We don’t get to quit in this family! This family is all we have ever had!”

“Well, then, we got nothin’.” Dean drawled. “What a hypocrite, you floor me Sammy, you really do.” The demon chuckled.

“Really? We don’t get to quit? Whatever happened to you quitting on us to chase your dreams at Stanford without your family holding you back? What happened to Dad quitting on us as our dad, and becoming our drill sergeant? Hell, even Mom got to quit this godforsaken hunting family business, but the moment I’ve had enough I don’t get to quit? Why the hell, can everyone quit on me, but me?!” Dean roared, blackened fire spitting in his eyes.

“Didn't you want to goddamn quit just a few months ago at Death’s door? Quit the good fight and find your way to Heaven? Well Sammy, this is my Heaven, and I think it’s time you manned the fuck up and stay true to your words, where you won’t do the same to me. Let me quit Sam, let me go.”

Sam looked away, and prepared the next syringe

“Oh. Ooh. Is this you manning up? Put me out of my misery? Kill me good with your poisoned blood?” Dean taunted.

Sam turned, sick and tired of this demon’s (Dean’s) charade of his endless faults. He was going to save his brother.

“This is me yanking your lame ass out of the fire.”

Sam jabbed the needle into Dean’s arm, the injection site flaring with angry red lines as the purified blood spread through Dean’s veins.

“You’re welcome.”

Sam walked out of the room, leaving Dean gasping in pain behind him.


End file.
